


Strangers in the Night

by tacoma_vibes



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Married Couple, Shameless Smut, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 14:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12459597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacoma_vibes/pseuds/tacoma_vibes
Summary: Ty and Zane attempt a foray into stranger roleplay. Things go remarkably well.





	Strangers in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is written in both Ty's and Zane's POV's. The start of their POV's is bolded and in caps. Enjoy!

**ZANE** scrolled through a page on his electronic tablet, his legs stretched out on the gray ottoman in front of him. Ty slouched lazily on the sofa beside him, his head resting on Zane’s lap. He looked content and serene, humming idly to the song drifting from the Bose iPod dock that Deuce had gifted him years ago. Zane’s eyes darted to the bottom of the tab when a message bubble popped up. He snorted loudly when he read it. It was one of those ‘Don’t Open Dead Inside’ Walking Dead memes that Nick had sent him. It was absurd and somewhat outdated, but Zane was a sucker for the show.

“What’s so funny?” Ty asked, tipping his head back to look at Zane.

“Oh, just this silly Walking Dead meme Nick sent me.”

Ty scrunched up his nose at that. He didn’t share Zane’s enthusiasm for the show, calling it grotesque and melodramatic. But Zane knew that Ty loved that he and Nick bonded over it, especially given their rocky start.

Ty yawned and stretched out on the sofa. “So where are we going for dinner tonight? How about that seafood place on Thames Street?”

On the weekends they forgo cooking at home for eating at some popular steakhouse, unless they had friends over. Clancy and Perrimore sometimes came for dinner, and they reminisced their past adventures and grouched about the new staff.

“How about we get a room at a hotel and stay the night,” Zane said, his fingers skimming across Ty’s shoulder.

Ty sat up from his lounging and turned to look at him, grinning slyly. “You miss your one-night stands?”

“You don’t?”

“Well, I had most of my encounters in bar closets, not fancy hotel rooms,” Ty said matter-of-factly.

“For me it was a mix of the two,” Zane said. “Plus there was a lot of cocaine involved,” he added after a pause.

Ty blanched and held up a hand as if to ward off the mental images. Zane laughed. He couldn’t blame Ty for his distaste; that was a very nefarious period in his life, fuddled by whiskey shots and escorts in dingy cartel backrooms. But those days were well behind him.

“So what do you say?” Zane asked again. “Weekend at a hotel?”

“Sure, why not.”

Suddenly Zane had an idea. “How about…” Zane drawled haltingly, rubbing circles with his thumb on Ty’s palm. “...we pretend to not know each other?”

Ty arched an eyebrow. “You want to roleplay as strangers?”

“Well, I thought...I don’t know, it might be fun.” Zane was aware of the warm flush creeping across his skin.

Ty scooted closer and pressed his lips against Zane’s. “I’d like that, baby” he said, smiling into the kiss.

He pulled back and gripped Zane’s arm tightly. “Oh, I could wear a top hat and pretend to be a magician in town for a stage show,” he said, hazel eyes shining. “Or I could be an orchid florist from Iowa.”

Zane groaned and lolled his head back. “I knew this would be a bad idea.”

“Oh, come on. This could be exciting,” Ty said, face bright with the prospect. “I’m going to sweep you off your feet.”

“With laughter, yeah,” Zane said wryly. Although he totally expected to be enamored, because Ty could be a charming bastard if he wanted, ridiculous top hat or otherwise.

“How about Monaco Hotel in Inner Harbor? Meet you there at 7?” Zane asked.

“I’ll be there with bells on,” Ty chimed happily.

Zane eyed him warily. “You’re not going to pretend to be a nomad and wear sleigh bells or something, are you?” Ty just chuckled and gave Zane a chaste kiss before heading up the stairs.

“Because this ain’t a fancy dress competition, Grady,” Zane called out, turning to on the sofa to watch Ty retreat up the stairs. “And I expect to get laid in the end.” Ty’s unintelligible reply sounded like an agreement.

Zane stepped into the marble laden atrium of the hotel, smoothing down the jacket of his charcoal gray suit. It was a deliberate choice since Ty loved that suit, and he knew Ty’s alter ego for the night would appreciate the gesture. God, he hoped it wasn’t the magician. He wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face if Ty wore a hooded magician’s cape and attempted to pull out a rabbit out of his top hat. Although it would be amusing just to see him try. The foyer was buzzing with patrons meeting for an evening rendezvous. The place was often frequented by affluent women partaking in book club events and legislators doing business. Back when Zane was the SIAC, the Bureau had hosted a party for some visiting dignitaries here.

Zane made his way towards the sitting area. Smooth jazz music echoed through the room and along the length of it spanned a dizzying array of liquors on the bar top, but Zane’s eyes flickered to the low tier of booths with tartan cushion seats at the far corner of the room. A lone man sat there nursing a drink. No magic capes or top hats. Ty was wearing his black Tom Ford suit with the satin peak lapel that highlighted his impressive muscles. Ty always looked stunning in that suit and Zane wanted to rip it off with his teeth every time he wore it. He felt a rush of affection when he realized Ty had chosen a spot far from the hustle and bustle of the crowded bar, just so that Zane wouldn’t be affected by the pull of alcohol. But Zane didn’t think that would be a distraction tonight, not when he had a mysterious stranger to meet.

“Is this seat taken?” Zane asked when he reached Ty’s booth, blithely ignoring all the empty ones around. The incandescent mauve lighting cast a sultry shadow on Ty’s face when he looked up.

He cocked his head at Zane and gave him an appraising look before smiling demurely. “No, go ahead. I’m all by myself.”

When Zane slid into the booth across Ty he noticed that the fizzy drink he held in his hand was just Coke.

“Tyler Beaumont,” Ty said, holding out his hand in a greeting. Zane schooled his quizzical stare and after a second of hesitation shook his hand.

“Xander Garcia,” Zane introduced himself.

He hadn’t really decided on a persona before coming to the hotel, choosing to go along with whatever inventive story Ty whipped up. Since Ty was going with his old undercover identity, Zane chose to do the same.

“So what brings you to Baltimore, Xander?  Or are you a local?” Ty asked, hazel eyes glinting.

Zane decided on full disclosure. He leaned forward on the table, his palm sliding against the glass tabletop. “Can you keep a secret?” Zane asked in a conspiratorial whisper. Ty nodded in bug-eyed interest.

“I’m actually an undercover FBI agent,” Zane said. Ty scrutinized his face for a moment, as if waiting for Zane to make finger guns at him and say “gotcha!” When Zane sat there unmoving, Ty burst out laughing. He leaned back on the booth and crossed his arms over his chest, his lips twitching in amusement. “I have to say, I’m impressed.”

“Impressed?” Zane asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ty nodded. “By this whole Donnie Brasco secret agent story you’ve cooked up. You tell people you carry guns too?”

“Something tells me you like guys with guns,” Zane countered without missing a beat. Ty snorted and shook his head, taking a sip of his Coke.

“So you don’t believe it? That I’m an undercover agent?”

Ty shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe you are. Or maybe you’re just pulling this suave gunslinger routine to get in my pants.”

Zane grinned wickedly. “Is it working?”

Ty narrowed his eyes at him, contemplating the question. “Buy me dinner first.”

And so several minutes later their table was cluttered with plates and a steaming bowl of Rarebit Fondue and Wagyu Burgers. Zane swore to be a federal agent and Ty upbraided his statements one after another.

“What kind of FBI agent doesn’t carry a badge anyway?” Ty asked, picking at the lettuce in his burger.

“An undercover one,” Zane insisted. “What do _you_ do, Tyler Beaumont?”

Saying those names in that order felt odd somehow. He only ever called Ty by his given name when he was being particularly obnoxious. Ty smirked at him as if he knew what Zane was thinking.

“I help run a bar in New Orleans. _La Fée Verte_. Ever been?”

Zane decided to skip mentioning the vacation he took there since that would lead to a murky tangent. “No, but I’ve heard good things,” he said. “So, by help run a bar, you mean like a bartender?”

“Yeah, that too. I also sing and perform burlesque acts from time to time. A bit of fun for the crowd.”

“You sing, huh?” Zane asked. “Are you any good?”

“Well, I’ve given some people quite the boner,” Ty replied nonchalantly, munching on a French fry.

That bastard. Ty had indeed given him quite the boner on many an occasion with his rich, singing voice. Especially when Zane was his sole audience.

Ty gave him a lascivious wink from across the table and slowly licked the Fondue sauce dripping from his thumb, his tongue moving in circles, holding’s Zane gaze as he did so.

Zane exhaled sharply and pulled his dinner napkin firmly over his lap to conceal his hardening cock. He never stood a chance against the sight of Ty licking his fingers and the fucker knew that.

“What’s wrong, Xander? You seem a little off,” Ty said, eyes full of mischief. Zane glared at him, wanting to reach across the table and wipe that smug grin off his husband’s face with a fiery kiss, maintaining a façade be damned.

He was distracted by the hubbub of a group of elderly women filling in the booth opposite to them, each carrying a hardcover copy of the same book, chattering excitedly among themselves. They were obviously there for some sort of book discussion.

“That looks like fun. Sitting in a group and talking about books,” Ty said, watching the group.

“I’d love that. Discussing a book I’ve read, or just being surrounded by books in general. I love being in bookstores,” Zane said pointedly. Ty’s eyes flickered back to him and he gave Zane a fond smile.

Many times, they both would start on a book curled up together on one of the bean bags in the bookstore after closing up. Zane would read out aloud while Ty interrupted him from time to time to discuss plot points or shocking twists or just grumble about the dainty prose style of the author.

Now Zane wanted to reach across the table and hold Ty’s hand, to revel in the love for this man who helped turn his hobby into a livelihood. Ty cleared his throat, trying to disperse the sentimentality redolent in the air between them.

“Surely an FBI agent would prefer something more fast-paced for a hobby. Books and bookstores seem so…tedious,” Ty said between morsels of his burger.

Zane shrugged. “I don’t know. Reading fiction is just nostalgic to me, I guess. Something I liked even as a child. Actually, the mystery novels of Raymond Chandler and Arthur Conan Doyle are what made me consider law enforcement as a profession.”

Ty just smiled and nodded. Moments like this always intrigued Zane. When Ty relinquished Zane’s honest replies without a smartass remark.

The din of the wall-mounted TV drew their attention. The World Series was on— Dodgers were playing the Texas Rangers. Although Zane wasn’t a diehard baseball fan, he always rooted for the Rangers and watched all their re-runs devotedly.

“The Rangers are terrible this season. Barely averaged 5 innings per start last game,” Ty said with a sad shake of his head. Zane knew Ty was taking perverse pleasure by dissing on his favorite team.

“Better than the Braves. They went 3-16 in April, the worst mark in the franchise,” Zane said. Ty wrinkled his nose. He grew up on Braves games in Bluefield, just like Deuce had, and even after he moved to Baltimore and favored the Orioles, he still pledged allegiance to his old team.

On the TV screen, Enrique Hernandez smashed in a homer and the stadium erupted in applause. The camera zoomed in on Clayton Kershaw, the Dodgers most prized pitcher.

“Now, he’s a looker,” Zane said, pointing his fork towards the screen. “Got nice dimples too.”

“You like guys with dimples?” Ty asked, flashing his pretty dimples on cue.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. Also guys with gorgeous eyes,” Zane said, peering into the mesmerizing hazel ones before him. Ty looked away with a smile, recoiling from the intensity of Zane’s gaze. His fingers brushed against the compass rose pendant on his neck. It was an unconscious gesture Ty sometimes displayed when Zane got all honey-tongued on him. Once again, Zane wanted to reach across the table and kiss him.  

“You know, I really shouldn’t be flirting with you at all. Or having dinner with you in the first place,” Zane said, waving a hand over their finished spread.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“I don’t think my husband will approve,” Zane said with a wistful smile.

Ty looked suitably baffled, his eyebrows climbing higher. “Really? Tell me about this husband of yours.”

“He means the whole world to me. And he’s the most handsome man I’ve seen,” Zane said, his voice raw and full of conviction.

Ty gave that a warm smile. He quickly morphed his features, feigning surprise. “If he is so handsome, then why are you here with me?” he asked, frowning.

Oh, this was a catch-22. A deceptive trap laid out by the profiler in Ty. Zane had to be deferential of both his husband and the stranger sitting in front of him.

“Because I respect him too much to do to him what I intend to do to you,” Zane said.

Ty’s mouth curved into a feral grin. “Jackpot, Xander. How about we take this conversation upstairs to my room?”

Zane’s smile was triumphant as he beckoned a waiter for their check.

 

 

 

 **TY** was jittery with anticipation as they rode up the elevator together. The evening had gone remarkably well, their little make-believe adding a refreshing facet to it. Their conversation had an intangible intimacy to it, with their knowing smiles and inside jokes about undercover agents and the Rangers strikeout rate. It was the best first date Ty ever had, even if it wasn’t exactly a first date. The reverberating ring of the elevator door opening alerted them of their floor. They caught each other’s eyes and grinned shiftily as they walked along the corridor towards their room, giddy as teenagers. Ty smiled when he felt Zane’s hot breaths on his neck as he worked the keycard. As soon as the door opened, strong hands slammed him into a wall near the vestibule and Zane crowded in on him. Ty let out a grating breath and pushed the door close with his foot.

“You turn me on like crazy, Tyler,” Zane rasped before smashing their mouths together in a hungry kiss. That statement would remain eternally true, whatever avatar Ty donned. He smiled into the kiss, his fingers skimming across Zane’s shoulder, feeling the fabric of the suit he loved.

Zane nibbled on his lower lip before pushing his tongue in forcefully into Ty’s mouth, his movements frantic and desperate. Ty wrapped his arms around Zane and threaded a hand through his unruly hair, indulging in the kiss.

When Zane pulled back, his pupils were dilated, making his dark eyes seem darker. “Want you,” he choked out, trying to shrug off Ty’s suit jacket. Ty peered at the King size bed at the other end of the room, looking cozy and inviting. Zane shook his head solemnly, discarding Ty’s jacket on the floor, his own jacket following suit. He latched on to Ty’s neck, nipping at his jaw. “Want you right now,” Zane breathed against Ty’s skin. Ty groaned and his eyes drifted close. He had teased and taunted Zane all evening and now he would be delightfully punished. And being fucked so close to the corridor where a passerby could hear them made the tryst even more titillating.

Ty gasped when Zane pushed his thigh against his groin, providing some friction for his hard cock. Zane reached within Ty’s dress shirt and gave his nipple a sharp pinch, continuing to rock his thigh against Ty’s cock. Ty cried out, this head thumping back against the wall.

“You’re a fucking tease, licking that Fondue off your fingers like that,” Zane growled, sucking the soft patch of skin on Ty’s throat.  

Ty grinned. “Next time I’ll do it with chocolate.” He wouldn’t even mind that he didn’t like chocolate, as long as it would elicit that sort of reaction from Zane.

Zane grunted and stepped back to unbuckle his belt and pull it off the hoops. Ty worked on his own belt, holding Zane’s smoldering gaze. Before he even could pull down the placket of his pants, he was spun around and shoved face first into the wall, and seconds later Zane’s hard body pressed up behind him.

Ty huffed a laugh and pressed his forehead against the cool wall. “You’re very excited, Xander.”

“You have no idea,” Zane said before pulling Ty’s pants and briefs down to his ankles. Ty inhaled sharply when Zane trailed a finger down his cleft before kneading his ass cheeks. “I want you to keep your hands on the wall at all times, you hear me?”

Ty nodded jerkily, the low rumble of Zane’s voice sending a shiver down his spine. He smiled when he realized how inflamed and turned on Zane was; they both were still mostly dressed and hadn’t moved an inch from the vestibule where they stood.

“You want this? Hard and messy against the wall like this?” Zane panted, biting Ty’s earlobe playfully.

“Fuck yes, I need it,” Ty growled, his fingers splayed out on the wall in front of him like a culprit being frisked by a police officer. Then he heard the unmistakable crumple of a plastic wrapping and all coherent thought left his brain when a lubricated finger breached his hole. He let out a shuddering sigh, his ass clenching around the invading digit. Zane pressed his mouth to Ty’s shoulder and pushed in another finger. Ty groaned loudly and reached back with his hand to touch Zane’s hip, craving more contact, more of everything.

A quick, stinging slap set his right ass cheek on fire. “What did I tell you about moving your hands?” Zane snarled. Ty huffed and surrendered himself to Zane’s touch, hands back on the wall. Zane hummed and worked his fingers deeper, twisting and curling them.   

“You ready?” Zane hissed, withdrawing his fingers from the slick heat. “Please,” Ty begged, whimpering at the loss of contact. Zane snaked an arm around Ty’s chest and pulled him flush against his body, his slick cock fitting snugly against Ty’s ass. Zane must have gotten himself ready when he tore open the lube packet. The thought made a pleasurable quiver zip down Ty’s body. Zane’s fingertips dug into the fabric of the shirt near his flank, and from the hitch in his breath Ty knew what was coming.

Sure enough, a gasp tore through Ty’s throat when the head of Zane’s cock pushed at his ass, spreading him open. Ty spread his knees wide and tilted his ass up, helping ease the entry. Zane moaned in appreciation and snapped his hips forward once, twice, shoving himself deep inside Ty.

Ty rested his forehead against the wall, dimly perceiving the contrast between the cool concrete before him and the warm body embracing him from behind. Then Zane drew back and pummeled his cock in and out of Ty several times, fucking him hard. Ty’s husky wail was muffled by the wall, the dull throbbing in his ass was replaced by a pleasurable zing that set his nerves alight.

When Ty craned his head back, he saw that Zane was looking down at where their bodies joined, his lips parted and shoulders heaving. “You like watching that, Xander?” Ty asked, a smirk playing across his lips. He lauded himself for being able to stay in character when most of his grey cells had checked out ages ago.

Zane looked up, his dark eyes full of heat and desire. He draped himself over Ty and clamped his arm around Ty’s chest once again. “Yes, Tyler. I fucking love watching my cock in your ass,” he whispered, biting Ty’s collarbone. At those words, Ty squeezed his eyes shut and let out an obscene moan. Zane began to thrust at a leisurely pace, moving inside him with more finesse and familiarly than such one-night stands warranted. The room was filled with sounds of their harsh breaths and bodies slapping together. Zane’s hand glided over the taut muscles at his biceps and forearm before entwining his fingers with Ty’s palm on the wall. That’s when Ty saw their infinity wedding tattoos side by side and his heart clenched with tenderness and longing. “I love you,” he blurted out before he could help it.

Zane tensed behind him and he buried his face in Ty’s neck, his body shaking with laughter. “Bastard,” Ty grumbled, although he was smiling too. Zane kissed his cheek and dragged his other hand over Ty’s abdomen, his fingers trailing over Ty’s pubic hair before gripping his hard cock. Ty breaths were ragged and he forgot all about his little Freudian slip when Zane started stroking his cock.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Ty chanted as Zane began to plunge into him with more strength, forcing Ty’s cock into the tight tunnel of Zane’s fist. Ty shouted when Zane pulled out completely and slammed into him again, his swollen cockhead spearing the tight muscles at Ty’s entrance. Zane’s ravenous movements hit his prostate just right and he gritted his teeth as he teetered on the edge of his orgasm.

Zane as always was very perceptive. “Come on, gorgeous. Let go and come all over that wall for me,” he ground out, his hand squeezing and pulling at Ty’s shaft. Ty felt his balls draw tight and his screamed Zane’s name as he came, spraying jets of cum on the wall before him. His whole body convulsed, shaking his very core. But he couldn’t sink to the floor just yet. “Your turn,” he muttered hoarsely, turning his head slightly to the side.

Zane grabbed Ty’s hair and yanked his head back, thrusting into him five or six times before bucking his hips. Ty’s fingers on the wall flexed convulsively as Zane emptied inside him. They stood cradled together for a moment, their shirts drenched with sweat and pants tangled around their ankles before Ty dropped to the floor, too deflated to move anywhere else. Zane laughed and knelt down beside him.

He cupped Ty’s cheek with his palm as he kissed him. “Two penalties, doll. You said ‘I love you’ and screamed my name when you came.”

“Oh, sue me,” Ty said indignantly.

Zane just laughed. “I love you too,” he mumbled before kissing Ty again.

Yeah, they were definitely doing this again. And Ty could be a black market orchid florist next time.


End file.
